


Star Moors

by DancingLilies



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Just.., creepy? i guess, it's crack but creepy, like this was a thing my bookclub came up with after reading wuthering heights, sorta crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 23:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20455058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingLilies/pseuds/DancingLilies
Summary: The sky is purple. A bright sickly purple that makes you want to cry. But servants don’t cry (you should never be seen) (never be heard) (never a burden) and so you only allow three tears to escape.





	Star Moors

**Author's Note:**

> um? my bookclub was joking around after we read "wuthering heights" and we came up with "star moors"!  
we made an assignment to write a crossover and then read it aloud to each other at the next meeting

The sky is purple. A bright sickly purple that makes you want to cry. But servants don’t cry (you should never be seen) (never be heard) (never a burden) and so you only allow three tears to escape. 

You had been too terrified to ask questions when Miss Catherine ran into the kitchen. “Please, please,” she begged. “It’s Heathcliff. He fell into the swamp and he can’t get out and it’s much too cold to be in the water for long and where’s Nelly, girl?” And for the first time since she had come in she was addressing you.  
  
You stuttered and Miss Catherine (fortunately) (but maybe you really should have been punished for not being a helpful servant) ignored your pitiful attempts at conversation and dragged you outside. “You need to help me. I need your help getting Heathcliff out of the swamp. _ Please_.”  
  
You couldn’t help but be drawn in by Miss Catherine’s trembling lips and glassy eyes and shaky breaths. And when you arrived at where she claimed Heathcliff had fallen, you couldn’t help but fall for the tears suddenly rushing down her cheeks. “He’s not here,” she whispered. “We’re too late. He’s not - _ he’s not here_.” You chose not to notice how she seemed to smile down at her feet (and _ why _ didn’t you think anything of it?) (it’s all your fault) and instead tried to comfort her.  
  
“It’s alright, Miss, I’m sure he’s somewhere around, I’m sure you’re simply jumping to conclusions…” But you couldn’t even fool yourself, and you were as gullible as they come.  
  
“No. I must accept what has happened and live with it.” She drew herself up and brushed your hand off her shoulder. “Come, girl. We must tell the household. There is no use denying it.”  
  
You followed Miss Catherine back to the house, still not quite understanding how she could switch her mood so quickly. Perhaps it was a mistress of the house thing. Maybe the upper-class just wasn’t allowed to show emotions. (you knew it wasn’t true, but maybe if you just pretended) (maybe if you just _ believed_) (it would come true)

But the sky is still purple, a bright sickly purple that makes you want to cry.  
  
There’s a crunch right outside the closet you’re hiding in, and you shove your fist in your mouth. You can’t be heard. You can’t be seen. (be the perfect servant) No one will find you if you _ just stay silent_.  
  
Nelly and Joseph and Zillah are all wearing white shifts, and you swear that they’re not in their right mind. They’re obeying Miss Catherine’s orders to the letter, (like a servant _ should_) but something is wrong because there’s no difference. They’re all the same, as if merely clones of an empty shell.  
  
The footsteps stop right outside your hiding place. “Girl,” it says, and you can’t tell who because they all _ sound the same_. “Girl, you’re disobeying the empire. You’re disobeying Miss Catherine. Come out, and meet your end peacefully.”  
  
A hand snakes into the closet and grabs your arm. “But I’m perfectly happy to drag you out, rebel scum.” You’re trying to fight the person, but you’re merely a girl of fifteen, and all you can do is gouge into the wood, leaving bits of skin and nails behind.

**Author's Note:**

> soo..  
Catherine is basically Darth Vader, the servants are the Stormtroopers, and this whole story is a mess


End file.
